


row, row, row your ship

by psychomachia



Category: Space Mutiny (1988)
Genre: Epic Stupidity, Gen, Meta, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 19:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2823005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychomachia/pseuds/psychomachia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Should I tell the Commander about the missing explosives? On the one hand, it vitally affects this ship and we could all end up dead. On the other hand, may already be dead, thus not affecting me that much. Also, last time I told him about missing things, he asked if I checked in the lost and found. Was serious about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	row, row, row your ship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dizzy_fire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy_fire/gifts).



Act natural, she thought.

Just act natural. Take a deep breath, the Commander's asking you for something, all you have to do is wait until he leaves....

Then you can panic like there's no tomorrow. 

Which there might not be because you were dead and now you're not and how did you get here. 

Okay, think. You're Lt. Lemont and you're the smartest person on this ship, which really isn't saying that much. Sure, your parents didn't give you a first name because they were too anxious to get back to partying at the disco, but that's okay. You can figure this out. 

So the last thing you remember, you were investigating that odd report about the missing explosives by that nerdy engineer, the one with the mullet. Did he come back from the dead? If so, you probably should lecture him on how the next time he thinks there's something suspicious going on, he should get to a place with an actual monitor and tell more than just you. Oh, and if he knows who's behind it, tell me WHO IT IS. 

Although you're not doing such a great job, using your full name and not immediately running to the Commander or the Captain. She winced. Next time, I'm totally using a pseudonym.

Wait, next time. Is there going to be a next time? Oh god, I hope not.

Anyhow, Kalgan showed up, he shot you, and the next thing you knew, you were here. Not dead, not injured, and no one seems to be worried that anything might have happened to you.

Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe this is a dream.

Lt. Lemont stood up very slowly from her chair and began backing away. Thankfully, the rest of the bridge crew was as clueless as ever and paid no attention to her. 

Just pretend you're going to take a short break, she thought. Then run.

\---------

Once she had made it inside her quarters and set a security lock on the door, she flopped down on her bed. 

Okay, so they haven't deactivated my security clearance and they haven't removed my stuff. So if I did die, nobody knows about it. 

She got up and went to her computer. 

“Computer, start new log. Entry #1. Beginning today.” 

“Computing. New entry started. Method of log entry?

“Manual.”  
The computer whirred and the screen popped up. She took a breath and began typing

\--------------

Log Entry #1

Have begun keeping a log upon realizing a number of strange occurrences aboard the ship. If my suspicions are correct, then....

Actually, I have no idea what the hell is going on. But will still try to make sense of it. 

Points  


  1. Have discovered large amounts of missing explosives. Culprit is most likely Elijah Kalgan, head of security for the Southern Sun. Judging from the dilation in his pupils, he is possibly suffering from Explosive Skull Disorder, causing severe headaches and mental disturbance, which could explain why he didn't even bother to question me that long.  

  2. Shuttle exploded, killing Professor Spooner, but inexplicably saving beefcake pilot, David Ryder. Truly a tragedy.  

  3. Also, apparently died today and no one noticed. 



Questions  


  1. Should I tell the Commander about the missing explosives? On the one hand, it vitally affects this ship and we could all end up dead. On the other hand, may already be dead, thus not affecting me that much. Also, last time I told him about missing things, he asked if I checked in the lost and found. Was serious about that.  

  2. Should I tell the Captain? He doesn't seem to be doing much at the moment, so he might have some time to check on it. Should probably not tell him that I think I'm dead.  

  3. How old is Dr. Lea Jansen, really? She won't tell us and the Commander kind of looks uncomfortable when I ask him about her birthday. Or her doctorate. Or what she's wearing on any given day.



Possible Conclusions Relating To Not Being Dead  


  1. ????  


\---------

And there Lemont had to stop.

Because she wasn't dead. But she had been. She knew that. She remembered the blast of heat hitting her chest, falling to the ground, and everything going dark. 

She remembered wearing the blue bodysuit. 

Wait.

She went over to her closet and opened it. 

Ten minutes later, she had come to two inescapable conclusions: 

One, there was way too much spandex there. 

And two, the bodysuit was there. Unmarked, as new as the day she got it.

Which meant.... which meant something, she knew. 

If everything had reset and she was where she had been just an hour ago, then...

Then... what? She put her hand to her heart. Still beating. She was still breathing, still moving, still had all her senses and intellect intact. She pinched herself, reassured to feel a sharp bit of pain.

“Computer,” she said. “Suppose a human was killed, then brought back to life.”

“That is impossible.” 

“Yes, I know that, but is there any precedent for that?”

“Computing. Checking history base. Pulling up results. Need further input.”

“Such as?”

“Do you wish to eat human flesh or blood?”

Lemont looked at it, startled. “No!”

“Computing. Do you pass through solid matter?”

“No.”

“Computing. Do you believe you are in an artificial reality, solely constructed so that machines may drain your precious energy and use it to fuel themselves?”

Lemont paused. “I don't think so. That seems like it would be too much of a rip-off.” She turned and looked at the window. 

“Computing. No matches.” 

She sat back down on her bed. What is happening, she thought. 

The loudspeaker in her room crackled. “Your attention, please. Captain Devers speaking. Ladies and gentlemen, the commander of the Southern Sun, Commander Jensen, will now make a special address to all on board.”

But instead of the old man's drone, she heard a different old man, one she had heard a long time ago, but never thought she would hear again. “I do apologize for breaking into this broadcast, Lt. Lemont, but I believe I can explain everything.”

It couldn't be. But if she could survive, then...

“Professor Spooner,” she whispered. “So you did live, after all.”

 

Spooner continued. “Please remain in your quarters for the time being. It should be isolated enough from what's about to happen. I will be there in a few minutes. You may not recognize me at first, in my clever disguise.” 

She waited for about an hour, as the ship went into what she could only assume was a fierce battle for the fate of the ship, what with all the yelling, screaming, and random blasts outside the ship. I wonder if they miss me, she thought. 

Probably not. They probably got that blonde girl to do my job. She doesn't even brush her hair. 

There was a knock on the door. She opened it, carefully, hand at a blaster at her side. 

“Professor?” she asked cautiously to the random old man outside her door. “I really hope it's you.”

“Of course, it's me,” he said, quickly walking in and reengaging the security lock. “This is my foolproof Random Old Man disguise. You're the only one who's ever caught onto it. No one ever bothers to check if one old man is the same as another here.”

“Unless it's the Commander.” 

“Well, yes, but when you look like a mythological holiday figure of long ago, you tend to be a bit more memorable. I, on the other hand, had to convince Santa Claus' daughter that I was a random old man who wanted nothing more than to hang out with her.” He pulled off the rubber mask with the vocal chip to reveal a slightly less old, female face. 

“Someday, you know, you're going to have let Lea know that you've been posing as a guy to mess with her.” Lemont hugged her. “I had to pretend that I didn't know you were sneaking aboard the ship. And then, when I thought you died...”

Spooner hugged her back fiercely. “Look, in this society, the only way I got tenure was to convince them I was my father. I mean, Lea may have gotten her degree out of pity and incredibly low academic standards, but I earned mine” She smiled. “You're looking well.”

“About that,” Lemont said, releasing her and taking a step back. “I'm pretty sure I'm dead.”

“Nonsense,” Spooner said. “Your heart still beats, doesn't it? You still breathe? You don't have a craving for human brains?”

“Professor?”

She shrugged. “Another old legend. But while you are not currently dead, you are correct in thinking you died. In fact, so did I.”

Lemont's head reeled. “But... then how did I...we come back?”

“That is the wrong question. The question is how do we keep coming back? This isn't our first death, after all.”

\---------

For a moment, she couldn't even speak, trying to process it. “But I only remember dying once.”

“That's because for the majority of this experiment, none of us could. It was only after it ran a few hundred times, that we started remembering things. Give it a few thousand more times, and a few more people on the ship might remember.” Spooner sighed. “Though I suspect Mr. Ryder would need a quadrillion or so before he picked it up.”

Lemont processed that, then had a thought. “You said it an experiment? Don't tell me we're actually in a virtual reality or something.” 

“No, no, we're not that desperate. No, think of it more as a time loop constructed by outside beings. Get several hundred people, tweak their memories, put them in an easily escapable ship they can't seem to find a way out of, and find out what happens when people stop being polite and start being.. .really stupid.” 

“Yes, that makes sense,” she said. “So the loop begins...”

“With the arrival of the Bellerians and the shuttle crash.” 

“Ah yes, I've been meaning to ask about them. All along, they didn't seem to fit in with what was going on here. Like they were just sort of shoved into our story, occasionally making appearance.”

Spooner looked abashed. “Well, I've been told that was more to keep the experiment interesting. Most of the observers felt the ship was lacking in 'eye-candy.'”

Lemont rolled her eyes. “Eye-candy?”

“Don't blame me,” she said, raising her hands, “They told me we were both very attractive. It's just... scantily clad ladies whose only job is to touch their magical orb. It gets viewers and sponsorship.”

She snorted. “I bet it does. So we're an experiment in human stupidity to see how out of control things can get before... what?”

“Well, it's a teaching exercise,” she said. “Young observers watch to catch inconsistencies in behavior and setting and the longer the experiment runs, the more that crop up. Why, for the first few times the experiment ran, most people didn't catch that you came back from the dead.”

“So every single time, I die. And then I come back only to disappear again?”

“That's one of the inconsistencies,” Spooner said, frowning. “I die at the beginning to initiate the experiment and to make sure I can keep it running smoothly on the ground. So I hang out in the cryofreeze in this old man disguise, make a few cryptic comments, and then I wander off. Nothing big.”

“And I get shot in the chest. Repeatedly.” Lemont glared. 

“Hey, hey, I get blown up in a shuttle. You might get a bit of pain for a few seconds, but I get set on fire.” Spooner grimaced. “And let me, tell you something. It gets real old, real fast. Anyhow, everyone else when they die, they go in some sort of time bubble... and don't look at me this way, I didn't invent it. But they get frozen in some sort of stasis.”

“Which is why you hang out in the cryofreeze.” 

“Exactly. I'm supposed to keep track of the bodies and make sure there's no degradation before the reset. So the time resets, everyone reverts to the beginning, and the experiment runs again. But you...” Spooner trailed off. “I could have told them you'd be a problem.”

Lemont poked her in the shoulder. “Thanks a lot.” 

“No, it's a compliment. You see, when everyone dies, they mentally fight it. How well you do depends on how smart you are. Most people here? Not going to really have an issue with them. But you always manage to find a way to cause your own time reset and send yourself back to the bridge. It's actually fairly impressive, if somewhat aggravating for the experiment overseers. They have to wait until no one's looking and override you every single time.”

“You keep mentioning overseers,” Lemont said. She had been thinking about it for some time. What sort of psychopaths would run an experiment like this? Why would her friend participate? Who would even want to watch something like this? “I mean, someone had to have recruited you to participate and I can't imagine you'd just randomly mess up both our lives. Who would get you to do this?” 

“Well, the people who want to run the real Southern Sun.” Spooner said. “I mean, you guys are like the beta version, before they send out the real one. You may have thought you've been in space for decades, but really, each time it's only for a couple hours before it resets.”

Lemont bitterly laughed. So that's what it was all about. She might have known the first time she met Spooner that there was a reason behind it. And now she knew. They weren't meant to be a new society, to be the beacon of humanity. They were the guinea pigs, the ones everyone knew were going to fail. It made so much sense.

And she was stuck. Well, shit. 

But, wait...

“So why are you telling me this now? Why let me break the reset, tell me the truth, let me know just how screwed we are. Is this another part of the experiment?” Lemont asked, her voice rising. “Tell me everything, then reset the loop, and repeat.”

Spooner looked stricken and grasped her shoulders. “No, no, it's not that at all. I wanted to stop this a long time ago. But between confidentiality agreements and a couple of blackmails, I was stuck watching this over and over. Believe me, it might seem a little fun at first, watching a large number of stupid people run around, but after a few viewings, you get pretty sick of it.” She took a deep breath. “No, the reason I'm telling you now is that the experiment's ending.”

“What?” 

“It's over. Done. They're recording this last loop for their reference and then that's it. Everything's done.”

Lemont felt numb with shock. “So what happens to the people who've already died? To the ones that are still alive? To me?”

Spooner looked uncomfortable. “Well, the dead ones will be revived. Thankfully, the real Southern Sun technology is a lot more advanced than yours.”

“Better budget, I'd imagine.”

“Well, they're not going to put much money into a guaranteed failure. Once everyone's been revived with their newly intact memories, they'll be given a check, a confidentiality agreement, and some job placement.” She laughed. “I imagine a few of them might have a harder time of it than others.” 

Lemont felt a small sense of relief at that. No one was dead, and though there were probably a number of people on board that shouldn't be allowed near sharp instruments or heavy machinery, the majority would probably be able to find something. “So you're telling me I should probably prepare to look for a shipping job somewhere, is that it?

“No,” Spooner smiled. “I've been talking with my superiors and they've allowed me to make you an offer. How would you like to work on the real Southern Sun?

She took a step back. “Are you...are you serious?” 

“Look, I know it might be the last thing you want to see, but the only reason anyone ever got anything accomplished here was because of you. And everyone recognizes that.” Her voice became desperate. “It'll be better than this. They've learned from their mistakes, they've made improvements, and you'll actually work with competent people. Plus, they'll actually pay you.”

Did she really want to do this, Lemont thought? To be on a ship again for years at a time, setting up a new society, dealing with the inevitable problems that would arise? Sure, she had a clear guide now on what not to do, but knowing now all she had gone through, would it be worth it? One time loop could be created; would she find herself in another one without her knowledge? How would she know what was really happening?

“Just promise me something,” she said and Spooner looked hopefully at her. Lemont allowed herself to smile as she felt something inside of her relax. 

“Promise me your disco isn't filled with spandex and hula hoops.”




**Author's Note:**

> I did toy with the notion of including an appearance by Kalgan, given that he has the whole "ha, ha, I'm not really dead" scene at the end, but it didn't seem to really fit. I will say that my head-canon for him after the show involves him and MacPhearson running away to open a space bed and breakfast in which his cackling is reserved to letting guests know that the muffins are in fact, not gluten-free. 
> 
> Lt. Lemont, meanwhile, continues to not have a first name, but is still much happier on the new ship working with mostly competent people, though she is concerned about these visions she's been having of a blonde woman talking about humanity's inevitable destruction. But it's probably nothing.


End file.
